t　a　book　he　had　read。　It　was　merely　the　title　that　hid　itself。　Only　this　had　ever　interested　him；　and　it　but　momentarily。　So　much　he　knew。　A　book's　title　had　lodged　in　his　mind；　remained　there；　and　was　now　curiously　stirring　in　some　direct　relation　to　his　present　perplexities。
  But　it　kept　its　face　averted。　He　could　not　read　it。　Vaguely　he　identified　the　nameless　book　with　Tessie　Kearns；　he　could　not　divine　how；　because　it　was　not　her　book　and　he　had　never　seen　it　except　on　the　library　shelf。
  The　nameless　book　persistently　danced　before　him。　He　was　glad　of　this。　It　kept　him　at　moments　from　thinking　of　the　loathly　Baird。
  CHAPTER　XIX
  THE　TRAGIC　COMEDIAN
  Penetrating　the　Holden　lot　he　was　relieved　to　find　that　he　created　no　immediate　sensation。　People　did　not　halt　to　point　derisive　fingers　at　him；　he　had　half　feared　they　would。　As　he　approached　the　office　building　he　was　almost　certain　he　saw　Baird　turn　in　ahead　of　him。　Yet　when　he　entered　the　outer　room　of　the　Buckeye　offices　a　young　woman　looked　up　from　her　typewriter　to　tell　him　that　Mr。　Baird　was　not　in。
  She　was　a　serious…eyed　young　woman　of　a　sincere　manner；　she　spoke　with　certainty　of　tone。　Mr。　Baird　was　not　only　out；　but　he　would　not　be　in　for　several　days。　His　physician　had　ordered　him　to　a　sanitarium。
  The　young　woman　resumed　her　typing；　she　did　not　again；　glance　up。　The　caller　seemed　to　consider　waiting　on　a　chance　that　she　had　been　misinformed。　He　was　now　sure　he　had　seen　Baird　enter　the　building；　and　the　door　of　his　private　office　was　closed。　The　caller　idled　outside　the　railing；　absently　regarding　stills　of　past　Buckeye　atrocities　that　had　been　hung　upon　the　walls　of　the　office　by　someone　with　primitive　tastes　in　decoration。　He　was　debating　a　direct　challenge　of　the　young　woman's　veracity。
  What　would　she　say　if　told　that　the　caller　meant　to　wait　right　there　until　Mr。　Baird　should　convalesce？　He　managed　some　appraising　side…　glances　at　her　as　she　bent　over　her　machine。　She　seemed　to　believe　he　had　already　gone。
  Then　he　did　go。　No　good　talking　that　way　to　a　girl。　If　it　had　been　a　man。　now〃You　tell　Mr。　Baird　that　Mr。　Gill's　got　to　see　him　as　soon　as　possible　about　something　important；〃　he　directed　from　the　open　door。
  The　young　woman　raised　her　serious　eyes　to　his　and　nodded。　She　resumed　her　work。　The　door　closed。　Upon　its　closing　the　door　of　Baird's　private　office　opened　noiselessly　to　a　crack　that　sufficed　for　the　speaking　voice　at　very　moderate　pitch　to　issue。
  〃Get　Miss　Montague　on　the　'phone；〃　directed　the　voice。　The　door　closed　noiselessly。　Beyond　it　Mr。　Baird　was　presently　speaking　in　low；　sweet　tones。
  〃'Lo；　Sister！　Listen；　that　squirrel　just　boiled　in　here；　and　I　ducked　him。　I　told　the　girl　I　wasn't　to　be　in　unless　he　was　laughing　all　over；　and　he　wasn't　doing　the　least　little　thing　that　was　anywheres　near　laughing。　See　what　I　mean？　It's　up　to　you　now。　You　started　it；　you　got　to　finish　it。　I've　irised　out。　Get　me？〃
  On　the　steps　outside　the　rebuffed　Merton　Gill　glanced　at　his　own　natty　wrist…watch；　bought　with　some　of　the　later　wages　of　his　shame。　It　was　the　luncheon　hour；　mechanically　he　made　his　way　to　the　cafeteria。　He　had　ceased　to　rehearse　the　speech　a　doughtier　Baird　would　now　have　been　hearing。
  Instead　he　roughly　drafted　one　that　Sarah　Nevada　Montague　could　not　long　evade。　Even　on　her　dying　bed　she　would　be　compelled　to　listen。　The　practising　orator　with　bent　head　mumbled　as　he　walked。　He　still　mumbled　as　he　indicated　a　choice　of　foods　at　the　cafeteria　counter；　he　continued　to　be　thus　absorbed　as　he　found　a　table　near　the　centre　of　the　room。
  He　arranged　his　assortment　of　viands。　〃You　led　me　on；　that's　what　you　did；〃　he　continued　to　the　absent　culprit。　〃Led　me　on　to　make　a　laughing…stock　of　myself；　that's　what　you　did。　Made　a　fool　of　me；　that's　what　you　did。〃
  〃All　the　same；　I　can't　help　thinking　he's　a　harm　to　the　industry；〃　came　the　crisp　tones　of　Henshaw　from　an　adjoining　table。　The　rehearsing　orator　glanced　up　to　discover　that　the　director　and　the　sunny…faced　brown　and　gray　man　he　called　Governor　were　smoking　above　the　plates　of　their　finished　luncheon。
  〃I　wouldn't　worry　too　much；〃　suggested　the　cheerful　governor。
  〃But　see　what　he　does：　he　takes　the　good　old　reliable；　sure…fire　stuff　and　makes　fun　of　it。　I　admit　it's　funny　to　start　with；　but　what'll　happen　to　us　if　the　picture　public　ever　finds　that　out？　What'll　we　do　then　for　dramaafter　they've　learned　to　laugh　at　the　old　stuff？〃
  〃Tush；　tush；　my　boy！〃　The　Governor　waved　a　halfconsumed　cigarette　until　its　ash　fell。　〃Never　fear。　Do　you　think　a　thousand　Jeff　Bairds　could　make　the　picture　public　laugh　at　the　old　stuff　when　it's　played　straight？　They　laughed　last　night；　yes；　but　not　so　much　at　the　really　fine　burlesque；　they　guffawed　at　the　slap…stick　stuff　that　went　with　it。　Baird's　shrewd。　He　knows　if　he　played　straight　burlesque　he'd　never　make　a　dollar；　so　notice　how　he'll　give　a　bit　of　straight　that　is　genuine　art；　then　a　bit　of　slap…stick　that　any　one　can　get。　The　slap…stick　is　what　carries　the　show。　Real　burlesque　is　criticism；　my　boy；　sometimes　the　very　high…browest　sort。　It　demands　sophistication；　a　pretty　high　intelligence　in　the　man　that　gets　it。
  〃All　right。　Now　take　your　picture　public。　Twenty　million　people　every　day；　not　the　same　ones　every　day；　but　with　same　average　cranial　index；　which　is　low　for　all　but　about　seven　out　of　every　hundred。　That's　natural　because　there　aren't　twenty　million　people　in　the　world　with　taste　or　real　intelligenceprobably　not　five　million。　Well；　you　take　this　twenty　million　bunch　that　we　sell　to　every　day；　and　suppose　they　saw　that　lovely　thing　last　nightdon't　you　know　they'd　all　be　back　to…night　to　see　a　real　mopping　mother　with　a　real　son　falsely　accused　of　crimesure　they'd　be　back；　their　heads　bloody　but　unbowed。　Don't　worry；　that　reliable　field　marshal；　old　General　Hokum；　leads　an　unbeatable　army。〃
  Merton　Gill　had　listened　to　the　beginning　of　this　harangue；　but　now　he　savagely　devoured　food。　He　thought　this　socalled　Governor　was　too　much　like　Baird。
  〃Well；　Governor；　I　hope　you're　right。　But　that　was　pretty　keen　stuff　last　night。　That　first　bit　won't　do　Parmalee　any　good；　and　that　Buck　Benson　stuffyou　can't　tell　me　a　little　more　of　that　wouldn't　make　Benson　look　around　for　a　new　play。〃
  〃But　I　do　tell　you　just　that。　It　won't　hurt　Parmalee　a　bit；　and　Benson　can　go　on　Bensoning　to　the　end　of　timeto　big　money。　You　keep　forgetting　this　twenty…million　audience。　Go　out　and　buy　a　picture　magazine　and　read　it　through；　just　to　remind　you。　They　want　hokum；　and　pay　for　it。　Even　this　thing　of　Baird's；　with　all　the　saving　slapstick；　is　over　the　heads　of　a　good　half　of　them。　I'll　make　a　bet　with　you　now；　anything　you　name；　that　it　won't　gross　two　thirds　as　much　as　Benson's　next　Western；　and　in　that　they'll　cry　their　eyes　out　when　he　kisses　his　horse　good…bye。　See　if　they　don't。　Or　see　if　they　don't　bawl　at　the　next　old　gray…haired　mother　with　a　mop　and　a　son　that　gets　in　bad。
  〃Why；　if　you　give　'em　hokum　they　don't　even　demand　acting。　Look　at　our　own　star；　Mercer。　You　know　as　well　as　I　do　that　she　not　only　can't　act；　but　she's　merely　a　beautiful　moron。　In　a　world　where　right　prevailed　she'd　be　crowned　queen　of　the　morons　without　question。　She　may　have　an　idea　that　two　and　two　make　four；　but　if　she　has　it's　only　because　she　believes　everything　she　hears。　And　look　at　the　mail　she　gets。　Every　last　one　of　the　twenty　million　has　written　to　tell　her　what　a　noble　actress　she　is。　She　even　believes　that。
  〃Baird　can　keep　on　with　the　burlesque　stuff；　but　his　little　old　two…　reelers'll　probably　have　to　pay　for　it；　especially　if　he　keeps　those　high…priced　people。　I'll　bet　that　one　new　man　of　his　sets　him　back　seven　hundred　and　fifty　a　week。　The　Lord　knows　he's　worth　every　cent　of　it。　My　boy；　tell　me；　did　you　ever　in　all　your　life　see　a　lovelier　imitation　of　a　perfectly　rotten　actor？　There's　an　artist　for　you。　Who　is　he；　anyway？　Where'd　he　come　from？〃　Merton　Gill　again　listened；　he　was　merely　affecting　to　busy　himself　with　a　fork。　It　was　good　acting。
  〃I　don't　know；〃　replied　Henshaw。　〃Some　of　the　crowd　last　night　said　he　was　just　an　extra　that　Baird　dug　up　on　the　lot　here。　And；　on　the　subject　of　burlesque；　they　also　said　Baird　was　having　him　do　some　Edgar　Wayne　stuff　in　a　new　one。〃
  〃Fine！〃　The　Governor　beamed。　〃Can't　you　see　him　as　the　honest；　likable　country　boy？　I　bet　he'll　be　good　to　his　old　mother　in　this　one；　too；　and　get　the　best　of　the　city　slickers　in　the　end。　For　heaven's　sake　don't　let　me　miss　it！　This　kid　last　night　handed　me　laughs　that　were　better　than　a　month's　vacation　for　this　old　carcass　of　mine。　You　say　he　was　just　an　extra？〃
  〃That's　what　I　heard　last　night。　Anyway；　he's　all　you　say　he　is　as　an　artist。　Where　do　you　suppose　he　got　it？　Do　you　suppose　he's　just　the　casual　genius　that　comes　along　from　time　to　time？　And　why　didn't　he　stay　'straight'　instead　of　playing　horse　with　the　sacred　traditions　of　our　art？　That's　what　troubled　me　as　I　watched　him。　Even　in　that　wild　business　with　the　spurs　he　was　the　artist　every　second。　He　must　have　tricked　those　falls　but　I　couldn't　catch　him　at　it。　Why　should　such　a　man　tie　up　with　Baird？〃
  〃Ask　me　something　hard。　I'd　say　this　bird　had　been　tried　out　in　serious　stuf